


Synesthesia

by OhNoHello



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Heavy Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Overdosing, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Touch-Starved, theres more to a relationship than love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello
Summary: Coked out, addicted, and in his own dream world, Hypnos listlessly floats from one existence to the next. Working under his shadow mob boss mother's instructions, he makes deals out of the bathroom in Zeus' strip club, Club Olympus. With nothing going for him and nothing left to give.Until Zagreus comes into his life.
Relationships: Hypnos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 90





	1. Wasted

**Author's Note:**

> **PLEASE READ THE TAGS**
> 
> This fic deals with some heavy themes of drug use and it will get VERY HEAVY as it goes on. 
> 
> I feel odd putting up warnings like this because I don't want to hype my own stories, but really, if angst is not your jam, please do not read this. 
> 
> Brought to you in part by @/darkcatss who created this Club Olympus AU and has personally been feeding my brainworms fresh dirt every day :) 
> 
> [And they drew this GORGEOUS picture of our favorite disaster child, look at how stunning he is <3 ](https://twitter.com/darkcatss/status/1352049205599215619?s=20)

Pink and orange blurred together into a technicolor mush, reflecting off the iridescent puddles of the day's chilly rain, leaving a rainbow pathway to the front doors of the club. Each step disconnected from the body, walking not upon concrete but floating somewhere in the air. A thudding bass like a heartbeat danced upon the enamel of teeth, fuzzing bone together with each thud. The world swam in his fish bowl, too big to realize how contained it was. A harsh intensity with jagged edges that scraped along skin until there was nothing left.

Hypnos swayed through his dream world, dancing to a tune only he heard, and with nothing left. 

He managed to step into a passable gait by the time he found refuge under the awning, all shiny and new. A well trod on carpet squished with mud and Hypnos held back a giggle at the sinking popping sensation. 

At the door, an iron gate before a palace of sin, Hypnos stood upright to his full height, took a deep breath in, and stepped inside. 

Music that had been just barely recognizable outside the club transformed to percussive proportions until it was indecipherable noise. It beat at the same stallion pace as his heart. There was a stale scent in the air that seemed to sweat from the very walls. Shadows danced behind a curtain of flashing lights and a purple glow that illuminated teeth. 

Hypnos could feel it's halo fuzz against his smile. 

Too close fingers snapped twice in front of his face and Hypnos blinked rapidly. It had been sometime since Hypnos had last blinked and his eyes had dried out. The rapid fire of his eyelids slowed down gradually until he blinked one eye at a time, feeling the wet slick over the dried out husks in his skull. 

He looked up at the owner of the fingers. 

A gargantuan amazon of a woman towered over him, the neon pink of her lipstick was affected by the UV lights and looked to be floating a half inch off her face. The lipstick delayed a second when she frowned. The strength in her arms made it clear she could throw Hypnos clear across the room and she looked like she wanted to. 

Hypnos really wished she would. 

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Hypnos said. 

The ideal human specimen sneered, showing off teeth that complimented her lips. 

"Identification," she said in a low husky voice that did _things_ to Hypnos' insides. 

He smiled placidly up at the amazon, simply delighted to bask in her quiet anger, but he mustn't leave a lady waiting. Not looking away, Hypnos patted down his pockets until he found the one with the lump. No not that one, the wallet shaped lump. That was inside his jacket. Smile still aimed on his goddess of the moment, Hypnos handed off his identity without a second thought. She huffed and graciously returned it. How kind of her. 

“Fee,” she said next, using the minimal amount of words needed to interact with him. 

Hypnos rifled through his pocket and pulled out a few wads that he perpetually kept in there for safe keeping. The modelesque mythological figure stared down at the balls of bills that bounced in her palm and sighed. The numbers denoting their worth were visible, even in the dank lighting of the club. She let them roll out onto the counter to be counted later and picked up a stamp. Manhandling Hypnos’ hand, she pressed the rubber into his skin with more force than was necessary. The little mountain glowed like her lipstick under the concentrated black light. 

“Leave,” she said, jerking her head into the club’s depths. 

“You’re nice,” Hypnos said and wandered into the smog. He licked the back of his hand to taste the UV ink and wondered if it transferred to his tongue. 

Hypnos had been inside high end strip clubs before and they all seemed to blur together. A liminal space where the people inside were not real, mannequins that filled roles. The pretty dancers who twirled around poles like ribbons. The drooling masses at their feet that all seemed to wear neckties. Plastic smiles plastered to their faces. 

Hypnos loved them all. 

He paused with his hand still raised, fuzzy sleeve slumping down his arm. He stared up at the predictably gorgeous young man who was presently upside down. Hypnos tilted to the side, letting his head droop to align with the stripper’s eyes. When they met, Hypnos gave him a little wave. 

The rest of the club was like any other. Tiered seating, private booths, a stage that split through the center like a fault line, a DJ that frankly looked like he was two seconds from crying. Hypnos had a brief moment of self awareness and wondered if he was seeing things again. 

So this was Club Olympus. 

Zeus, the man that had crawled to Hades’ feet begging for some assistance, owned a series of properties. The somewhat less than legal merger between the two estranged brothers, the protection and notoriety of using the underworld’s notorious mob boss as his unofficial partner would give Zeus a leg to stand on and Hades more terrain to dominate. 

The shadow king behind it all was the one Zeus aimed for and reaped the benefits of Hades’ sweat. 

Nyx, real estate mogul, and her sons. Zeus’ name may have once been on the deed, but Nyx now held the rights. Zeus was allowed to keep his pretties dancing in their sweat soaked cage while Nyx stretched out her arm like a god and took more under her power. 

Hypnos was just the harbinger of what was to come. 

He swayed as he walked, dancing through their new turf, ready to make a little fun that particular evening. Hypnos liked fun. 

He made it to the bar and walked into the side of it with a soft _’oof’_. It earned him the interest of the bartender, just as beautiful as any stripper in the club. The little purple clips in his hair shaped like bronchioles. . . or was it grapes? Clusters that set Hypnos’ teeth on edge and he chattered slightly. 

“Can I help you, my man?” the bartender asked, fluid and in one breath. 

“Water,” Hypnos said. “May I have some water please?” 

Without taking his eyes off Hypnos, as if he might try to steal something, he poured a glass of water. Hypnos leaned over the bar and plucked a cherry from its little plastic prison. He popped it into his mouth before the bartender could say “Hey.” 

“Sorry,” Hypnos said around the cherry. He swallowed the stem. 

The bartender gave Hypnos a bland look, managing to do it with a customer service smile, and placed the plastic cup of water in front of him. Hypnos downed it in one gulp, mouth sticky and his throat a desert. He draped across the bar and held the up out. 

“Water,” he said. “Please and thank you.” 

The bartender was half to another customer when he stopped. He frowned, the polite facade of a man working for tips gone. He didn’t bother taking the cup away, instead spraying the water directly into Hypnos’ outstretched hand. Hypnos didn’t wait for him to finish before nearly drowning himself in the next glass. 

He dropped his hand out for more, silently smiling and water dribbling down his chin. 

“My good man,” the bartender said, once again smiling and speaking as if talking to a child who didn’t understand. Hypnos appreciated it. “If you want, you could grab a table and I’ll bring you a pitcher.” 

The idea seemed nice, but no. Hypnos was there to work and he was a good worker. He was sure of it. Deep down inside. 

Hypnos reached into his money pocket again, pulled out another ball, and let it fall from his hand to the bartop. It bounced off the edge behind a neat row of pour topped soldiers. The bartender watched it hop away before blandly looking back up to Hypnos. 

Hypnos went for a lime wedge before the bartender could say anything. 

He meandered to the back corner of the club, the layout the same as every other one he’d ever been in. A copy paste experience of walking through a dream. 

Hypnos found his new office. Maybe he’d bring in a plant, pictures of the family, hang them on the walls. 

He stepped inside the bathroom. Mens. To start. 

One necktie stood at the sink, in just as worse for wear as Hypnos was, washing his hands without any soap. A stall was locked shut, but Hypnos couldn’t see any feet. Two men, roughly Hypnos’ age, stood at the urinals. 

“I swear she looked at me,” one said. 

“She looked at everyone,” the other said. 

“Think she does lap dances?”

“If she isn’t booked up for the night.” 

Hypnos stared down the two stalwart pissing statues, from their jean jacketed backs to their untied sneakers. Hypnos wasn’t particularly what one would call a precision shooter, but he knew a target when he saw one. 

The drunk at the sink finally finished and gave Hypnos a side eyed glance that Hypnos saw but promptly ignored. Far more in favor of the fish who were more likely to nibble bait. 

He didn’t wait for a zip up. 

“Hello good shades,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Having a good evening?” 

One looked over his shoulder first and, more following his friend rather than the independence of his own decision making, so did the other. Scowls and sneers might as well have been polite hellos to Hypnos by that point. 

“Go away fruit,” the leader said. 

“Would you like to have a better one?” Hypnos asked. 

There was that zip, furious and fast and maybe pulling on short hairs, but not enough to deter the man who erroneously took Hypnos for a threat. 

“What was that?” he asked, stomping towards Hypnos with clear violent intentions. 

Reached into his other lumpy pocket and pulled out his shield. The would be attacker stopped in place. 

A bag, small and innocent, just big enough to hold a set of earrings. Plastic with a zip lock seal, a sandwich bag for a mouse. Quarterway filled with a small pool of fine white powder. It could have been sugar, it could have been for a baby’s ass, but at that quantity, in those hands, with that smile, it was unmistakable what it was. 

Hypnos shook the baggie in place and it rustled in that pleasant way that rippled his heart. 

The nice young man looked from the baggie to its owner and back again. He relaxed, the fight instantly leaving him. 

“What do you want for it?” he asked. 

“Oh absolutely nothing!” Hypnos said, splaying his fingers wide. His wide sleeves slipped down his arms again and off one shoulder, revealing bare skin. The nice young man’s eyes went to that bare shoulder before back to the bag again. Skepticism on his face before he could say a word. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“Of course! First try is free, isn’t that what they say?” Hypnos smiled. “Just making new friends. Don’t you want to be friends?”

The nice young man snorted and looked back to his friend, who was far more apprehensive. 

“Sounds like a rip off,” he warned. 

“No no no, its real,” Hypnos said. “Here I’ll show you.” 

With a delicacy he lacked in his day to day life, Hypnos gently parted the zip lock, the two interlocking rails parting satisfyingly. He tapped it with finesse into the hollow between his forefinger and thumb. Closing one nostril, he made quick work of the tiny power mountain and inhaled it directly up his nose.

As familiar to Hypnos as riding a bike. If Hypnos knew how to ride a bike. 

He inhaled deeply, feeling the burn go up his nose from having sucked in too much too fast. His eyes rolled back, more from the roller coaster like nausea of having to lean down than the bump itself. He sniffed hard again, his nostril, just one, feeling red and raw. He wiped at it with this thumb, smearing coke like a child with a powdered donut. 

“See?” he said. 

The nice young man looked to his friend who shrugged in defeat, clearly not the type to go against the other. 

“Line ‘em up,” he said. 

Hypnos was an artist. A sensitive soul. On the best of days he could draw a perfect circle. It was one of his many _many_ very useful talents. Pouring out neat perfect lines of coke was a well practiced breeze. He lined up two rather generous offerings for the price of free on the questionable bathroom counter. Thankfully the good young men came armed with their own crisp bills, expected in a place like that, and Hypnos wouldn’t have to resort to flattening out the crumpled up cash in his pocket. 

Pleasantly sedated and high on the way, the nice young men thanked Hypnos and left to their fruitless battle of winning the affections of those who were only the simulation of love. 

Hypnos spent the rest of the night in the bathroom. Within the fluorescent lights and brick walls, time had no place. The steady pulse of the arguable music outside muted like he was sitting at the bottom of a pool. It could have been a few seconds or it could have been a milenia. He played with his phone, in that he pulled it out, saw texts from his brother, and put it back. He did this no less than 10 times. 

Heat prickled his skin and the fuzzy jacket he wore slumped lower and lower until it draped over his elbows like a stole. It had once been white, but time and use had turned it dull. Hypnos would never rid himself of it. 

In and out, new friends went through Hypnos’ office. He gave them all the same offer. Some said yes, some said no, all of them welcome to their decisions. 

Hypnos established himself that night. The professional effect of pissing on new territory. 

It was all going so well until his first friend, statuesque woman of his dreams and her hot pink lipstick, came barging into the men’s bathroom. 

“Hello,” Hypnos said pleasantly, delighted to see her. “Did you come for a social call?” 

Rather than answering, she snagged Hypnos by the scruff of his collar and dragged him out of the bathroom. 

“I’ll take that as a no then!” Hypnos said, stumbling to keep up with her. 

The music blared, hitting Hypnos and his sensitive ears like an ocean wave. He winced, lost his balance, and was promptly and properly dragged. The absurdity of his free theme park ride filled his heart with joy and he giggled in delight. 

“We really should do this again sometime, this was fun,” he said as they neared the front door. 

“Just be glad I’m not calling the police,” the amazon said in her sultry tone that Hypnos could have bathed in. 

“Aw come on, that would make it more fun!” 

A proper drizzle etched the night, making the sky sparkle in the neon lights. Reflections of the potentially real world dripped and rippled and danced inside small puddles in the parking lot. 

The bouncer chucked Hypnos out, depositing him in one of the puddles. He tripped and landed with a pathetic splash. Far too numb to feel the impact of the pavement, but aware in the back of his mind that he would greet it in the morning. 

“Don’t come back,” she said. 

“See you next week,” Hypnos laughed, one hand waving in the air. 

The door slammed shut and Hypnos was cut off from the confines of Zeus’ den. Alone again in his drippy little world where the rainbow crusted over in the night. A fit of giggles burbled up from the back of his throat, dancing like popping bubbles in a boiling pot until they erupted free. His rib cage shook from the shivers and the laughter, hands clawed up in the air, getting no command on what to do next. His eyes closed and he languished in the gentle shower that peppered sweet kisses on his face. 

His ass was getting wet. 

“Are you okay?” 

A giggle died down with a high pitched sigh and opened his eyes. 

A shadow stood above him. A dark haired figure bent over and haloed in the pink light of Club Olympus’ sign. It couldn’t be death, Hypnos was sure of that. Maybe it was just a cloud. 

Hypnos sniffed, expecting nothing but the familiar dry that perpetually existed in his nose, but instead got a droplet of rainwater racing down his lungs. He coughed, closed mouth, and convulsed slightly on the ground from it. It broke into a hiccup. 

“Terrific,” he told the cloud. “I’m just watching the stars.” 

He splayed out his hands like a conductor, indicating the night sky above. The cloud looked up, following his indication, at the lazy constipated storm clouds. Slowly, he looked back down to Hypnos. 

“Do you need a ride?” he asked. “I can call you a cab.” 

“That. . . is probably a very good idea,” Hypnos said. “I think Charon might be mad if I drove his car now.” 

“Yeah,” the cloud said. “You can come back for it tomorrow.” 

A hand wrapped around Hypnos’ forearm. The cloud had an awfully strong grip for a cumulonimbus. He yanked Hypnos to his feet, the force of it enough to erase the moment from Hypnos’ memory, and he went from laying in a puddle to leaning up against a strong chest. 

“Woah okay there,” the cloud said. That same hand proved to be gentle and pat his back evenly. “Okay, lets get you a cab.” 

Hypnos should have been working. He should have been offering this cloud, this nice young man, some of his wares. He could make a perfect circle around the puddle and together they could consume and consume and fly away. 

Instead, Hypnos leaned in further to the warmth of that hold. Nestled under the touch of the hand. The words of his sales pitch choked in his throat. His confidence sapped. The swirl of flashing light and color disappeared as he closed his eyes. Hypnos leaned against the expanse of a broad chest, his cheek distorting as he slid down. His body suddenly boneless. No longer on the edge he hadn't noticed. 

Safe. 

It had been sometime since he felt hands on his skin. 

“Here you go,” the cloud said far too soon. 

Hypnos wasn’t sure he could extract himself from the stability, but those kind hands guided him into the back of the cab. A hand rested on the back of his neck, thumb gently rubbing up and down it, soothing and intimate. Made all the more easier when the cloud asked, “Where do you live?” and Hypnos told the cab driver where to go.

The frightened deer that lived inside him curled up to rest. 

“You get home safe okay?” the cloud said and pat his shoulder. “Then come back for Charon’s car later. Can you do that?” 

Hypnos’ head weighed that of a dying star and flopped on the back of the bench. He looked up to his saviour and saw kaleidoscope eyes. Dual colored staring down like nebulas that darted across the sky. More brilliant and bright than any other color Hypnos had ever seen. 

Hypnos held up a limp finger. 

“Your eyes are exploding stars,” he said. 

The cloud smiled. The man smiled. The kind man who touched Hypnos smiled. 

“Thats just about the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he said. 

Hypnos smiled at that, uncontrollable, but not from the coke. A prickling tingling feeling that made his chest dance like liquid metal reacting to a magnet. A soft laugh puffed and condensed in the wet air. 

“I can get home okay,” he reassured the man with exploding eyes. 

He pat Hypnos’ shoulder twice. 

“Good,” he said and closed the cab door. 

Hypnos leaned against the cool of the window, his face pressed against it in the most unflattering way possible. His eyes followed the man as the world moved backwards out the cab window. 

Despite the rage that was racing through his veins, the inevitable always caught up with Hypnos. He closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep’s welcoming arms. 

____

Hypnos fidgeted his fingers between his knees, staring blankly ahead at the receptionist desk. The girl behind it, Dusa, long time employee to the House of Hades, smiled wanly at Hypnos. She was a good sort, kind, smiled through Hypnos’ rambling one sided conversations because she knew Hypnos would afford her the same. They had gotten drunk at one office party, once, and Hypnos was never invited back. 

Hypnos had asked her for her number. Dusa had said it wasn’t a very good idea. 

She looked back down to her work, her fingers clacking over the keyboard. Not a second later she looked up again. Smiled again. 

“I’m sure she’ll be just a minute,” she said. 

Hypnos nodded, agreeing with her. Just a minute. 

He sighed and drummed his fingers together, the beat minute under the white noise of the air conditioning. His eyes slid over the grey walls and bland carpeting, deceptively normal cubicle farm on a middle level of a skyscraper. His gaze stopped on the stark red lettering of Hades. 

Hypnos had been officially working for that ostentatious logo for a little over 5 years of his life and still had yet to not be intimidated by it. 

Hades was not technically his boss, he still jumped when his mother said so, but the man did give out orders. Hypnos was so eager to impress the man, so ready to do good work for the House, that made him a little jittery. 

He had yet to impress. 

But there was always tomorrow. 

Hypnos’ big puffy coat slid down his shoulder, as most coats on him wanted to do, and he shivered. He didn’t need a winter jacket, they were still a few months off, but Hypnos was always cold. Especially when he wasn’t using. 

The world was a little greyer, a little colder, a little slower without the aid of his crutch. His first inclination when rolling out of bed was to brighten his day a little with a pick me up and then he could do something about his morning breath, but on visit days he forewent his usual routine. 

Nyx always knew when he was using. 

He drummed his fingers again and Dusa gave him another strained smile. 

“So,” he said. “Seen any good movies lately?” 

Dusa opened her mouth to respond when the phone rang. 

“Oh!” she said, hopping to action and fumbling to pick up the phone. “Oh oh oh! Okay its– okay!” 

She picked it up and held it to her ear, mouthing the words _’Its Nyx’_ or _’sick nuts’_. Either one. 

“Hello Miss. . . yes. . . yes. . . When was that again?” She pressed the phone to her shoulder and scribbled something on a pad. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay I’ll be sure to put that in the books. Oh and Miss Nyx, your son is. . . Well he’s here. Oh. Okay I see. Alright. Well I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Hypnos could tell that Nyx hung up first. Dusa blinked rapidly, holding the phone from her ear. 

“Well bye,” she said and gently placed it back into the cradle. 

Hypnos really wished Dusa wouldn’t smile so pitifully. She had a nice smile and she didn’t need to feel sad. 

“I’m sorry Hypnos,” she said. “It seems Miss Nyx is otherwise occupied today.” 

Just like the last time. And the time before that. And once before that. 

Hypnos slapped his knees and rose to his feet. 

“She’s a very busy woman,” Hypnos said brightly. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of her schedule. Could you let her know that I said hi? Also make sure to take a break for lunch okay, Dusa?” 

“Okay,” Dusa said, still with that same weak smile on her face. She nodded and a large loc flopped into her eyes. 

Hypnos waved as he walked out of the dulled high rise office to the dulled grey elevator bank to the dulled lobby. Not meeting with Nyx was an hour train ride from his apartment and another hour back, but not meeting with mother meant that his day was otherwise freed up. He could go home, climb under the covers and melt into the sweet embrace of his usual routine. 

Already feeling lighter at the prospect of something _fun_ , Hypnos almost missed walking right into another human body. 

“Whoops,” he said, stumbling back and holding the door open. “Sorry about that.” 

“Oh no I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the near accident victim said. Then he paused, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey I know you.” 

Hypnos did admit he was familiar with the face that stood in front of him. A man with messy dark hair and a stout build. He was pretty short for a guy but he either didn’t know or didn’t care by the confidence in his stance. 

He had heterochromatic eyes. One red. One green. 

Hypnos snapped his fingers. 

“You're the Hades kid,” he said. 

Mr Hades’ kid seemed a little shocked by that, recoiled, and laughed. 

“Oh yes I suppose I am,” he said. “Do you work for the old man?” 

“Sort of.” Hypnos waved his hand back and forth in the air. “Kind of. Yes I guess you could say I do!” 

“And did you get home okay?” the Hades’ kid said, leaning in slightly conspiratorially. 

It was Hypnos’ turn to be slightly surprised. He stared off into the middle distance, his eyes sliding over the kid in front of him, trying to recall the last time he needed to have gotten home okay. 

The last time he had gone out was for business, not for pleasure, at Nyx’s behest. He had given out a few samples in the men’s bathroom, he remembered doing that, and remembered the gorgeous bouncer politely inviting him to leave. The next morning he had woken up in his favorite fluffy jacket smelling like a gutter. 

There had been big warm hands that helped him into a cab. 

Hypnos gasped and clicked his fingers again. 

“That was you!” he said. 

“That was me,” Hades’ kid said. 

“I should really get Charon’s car,” Hypnos said. 

The kid laughed, turning his lips inwards in amusement and trying to hold it back out of some sense of societal rules. He stuck out his hand. 

“Zagreus,” he said. 

Hypnos shook it, letting the kid flop his arm around with excited vigor. 

“Who is?” Hypnos asked. 

“Me. I am. I’m Zagrues,” Zagreus said. 

“Ooooh,” Hypnos said. 

Zagreus stopped shaking and did that trying not to laugh thing again. 

“And you are. . .?” he asked. 

“Oh! Oh right! Hypnos. Hypnos Chthonic,” he said and tried to shake back. He only succeeded in wriggling his own hand and doing nothing to make Zagreus’ move. 

Zagreus’ eyes widened. 

“Nyx’s son?” he asked. 

“One of them!” Hypnos said with pride. 

“I’ve met Than,” Zagreus said. “Actually a while back, by happenstance.” 

“Yup! Thats my brother! We’re twins, actually,” Hypnos said. 

Zagreus took his hand back and slid it into his pocket. He looked Hypnos over, his mismatched eyes sweeping up and down the figure Hypnos made. 

“Huh,” he said. 

“Yeah and Charon is our older brother,” Hypnos said. 

“I haven’t met him yet,” Zagreus said. “Father is introducing me to the operation one at a time. I don’t think he trusts me very much.” 

“What a coincidence, mom doesn’t trust me!”

That time, Zagreus didn’t try to hide the laughter. He had a nice laugh. He had nice smile and a nice face and a nice set of mismatched eyes. 

Hypnos knew it was an uphill battle, especially in the sober light of day. Under the influence, he had a boost of confidence that broke through what feeble social barriers he normally held, but it was a numbers game. 

People were beautiful. There were a million pretty faces and Hypnos could fall in love just tripping down the street. It didn’t matter if it was a romance of a lifetime or a two second exchange where for the briefest moment, Hypnos and another existed on the same wavelength. A look that could pluck heartstrings like a lyre. 

For every beautiful person Hypnos met, there was an opportunity. Opportunities not taken were just a waste. 

Even if the answer was always no. 

“Do you want to get some coffee?” Hypnos asked before he could think about it too much. 

For as much ignorant brazenness Hypnos projected into the world, he knew the expectation from repeated outcomes time and time again. He saw it gearing up on Zagreus’ face. The way his smile dropped from the surprise question, the assessment once again of the creature who asked it. It would be a polite no, from the way Zagreus looked up the building, looking for a kind excuse and a gentle let down. 

Hypnos was used to it, but still he braced himself. 

“Sure!” Zagreus said. 

“Huh?” Hypnos asked. 

“Yeah, the old man can wait a little.” Zagreus turned in place, ready to walk away right then and there. “Theres a cute little spot down the street that I’ve been meaning to try out.” 

Hypnos made a mental note to get more q-tips because clearly his hearing wasn’t right. 

“You mean now?” he asked. 

“I mean, we could always go some other time,” Zagreus said. 

“No! No no no now is good.” Hypnos slipped into Zagreus’ side, almost taking his arm. Instead, Hypnos shoved his fist into his pocket and pulled down the collar of his jacket off his shoulder again. 

“They always have this little sign outside with a new special all the time,” Zagreus said. “There must be an artist working there because they draw a new picture for it every single day.” 

He plucked the edge of Hypnos’ collar and gently put it back into place. The chill of the world covered up once again. 

Hypnos smiled into the faux fur of his collar. 

“Thats a lot of work,” Zagreus sighed, exhausted from just the thought of having to create a new chalk drawing every morning. 

“Its not work if you love it,” Hypnos said. 

Zagregus smile brightly at Hypnos, still walking forward, but his attention completely on his companion for the minute. 

“I like that,” he said. 

Hypnos couldn’t have repeated what the coffee shop was called or what music they played or what special was the little sign. He did remember that it had little green bubbles in it because Zagreus pointed them out. He remembered ordering a drink that was pink and flavored like rose hips and learned that he didn’t like rose hips, but he drank it all anyways. Zagreus ordered a caramel latte. Hypnos remembered it because Zagreus insisted they swap sips of each other's drinks. 

Hypnos had fully intended to get their drinks and go back, but Zagreus, a man designed to contradict Hypnos’ expectations, asked if he wanted to sit for a while. Of course he did. Hypnos was so often tired on his feet. 

A while should have been the length it took to drink their drinks, which was difficult when talking, but still they got through them. Still, they did not stand back up once they were done. 

Conversation flowed as naturally as a river. Dipping and swirling around bends, transforming in new ways that they couldn’t quite remember how they got there in the first place. They talked about Thanatos, how Zagreus had met him and how he was just _like that._ They talked about the coffee shop and the music playing over the speakers and then just music in general. About the general bland topics that most people talked about, weather and news and cats, but somehow more engaging than idle chit chat. They kept twisting around one another until it turned into religion and sports, both of them finally admitting neither was particularly religious but both liked sports. 

“I would have never pegged you for an MMA fan,” Zagreus said, still fiddling with his empty coffee cup. 

“Really? I thought I looked _exactly_ like the type of person who enjoys MMA,” Hypnos said. He had been leaning into his palms for the last half hour and his elbows had gone numb against the table. 

“What about it do you like so much?” Zagreus asked, leaning forward. His shoe scuffed against Hypnos’ own. It jolted back as if it had been an accident, but on the second nudge there was no hesitation. 

“Besides a thriving gambling community?” Hypnos asked, if just to hear Zagreus laugh. He shrugged. “Its meditative.” 

“Meditative?” Zagreus asked. 

“Yeah,” Hypnos said. He drummed his fingers on his face and tapped his foot, his toes bouncing off Zagreus’. “They’re putting forth so much energy and exertion and you can tell it hits this point where it stops being about thinking about what they’re going to do next and just doing it. Theres no overthinking it and its so engrained it just becomes about reaction.” 

Multiple times over the course of their conversation, Zagreus paused at something Hypnos had said. Mulling it over with a new direction. 

“Huh,” he said, not for the first time. “Well, I dabble a little in amateur MMA.” 

“So you know what I’m talking about,” Hypnos said. 

“I suppose I do–” 

An angry buzzing cut through their conversation and the soft dulcet tones of hipster crooning. Zagreus frowned, annoyed for the first time that morning, and dredged out his phone. 

“Well it seems father is good and upset now,” he said as text after text flitted across his screen. His brows rose in mild amusement. “We’ve been here a while.” 

Hypnos leaned over to look at the time. It was afternoon. 

“Look at that, we have,” he said. 

“Well,” Zagreus sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Seems I got to go.” 

Hypnos took the little bit of disappointment he felt and placed it into a tiny box in the back of his heart. Zagreus rose to his feet and held out his hand to help Hypnos up. Hypnos didn’t need it, but taking Zagreus by the hand was a far more effective close to their. . . not a date. Date. Not date. Hour and a half they spent talking about nothing. 

“This was nice,” Zagreus said, still holding Hypnos’ cold hand. “We should do this again sometime.” 

Hypnos’ fingers curled around Zagreus’. 

“I would like that,” he said. 

Zagreus nodded and finally let go, beaming with an infectious sort of joy. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took his time heading back to the House. 

Hypnos watched him go for a long moment, taking in details. The short hairs on the back of Zagreus’ neck, the frayed end of the patch on his jacket, the way his jeans folded when he walked. Hypnos let himself casually fall in love. 

He breathed in deep, proud of how he had spent his morning, and made his way to the train station. He could have a little celebration for having a good day when he got home. 

_____

Off hours Club Olympus was akin to sneaking behind a theatrical stage. The magic of sweeping performances and well executed props stripped down to be nothing more than some rope and wire. The choice between indulging in the ignorance of an audience member and choosing to believe the magic and demanding answers by ripping off a mascot’s head. 

It was always just a disappointment inside. 

Hypnos liked seeing what was underneath. He delighted in the set up of the magic trick, to see the mechanisms of how the facade worked. Without the aid of a black light or glittering dancers, the stage was just a raised platform with smudged poles sticking out of it. Stains were prominent on the couches and the folded chairs were just a smidge under sub par. Every time the front door opened, letting in the cleansing pure light of day, it only highlighted what a wonderful seedy underbelly Club Olympus was. A rock just wriggling with centipedes in the mud. 

Only Hypnos’ bathroom remained the same. Untouched in its own little pocket dimension. Just as it was empty or full, in day or night. Untainted and pure. 

“Are you high?” 

Hypnos slowly turned to his brother and his grin widened. Thanatos scoffed, unable to look at his twin. 

“Jesus, Hypnos,” he said. “We’re supposed to be presenting ourselves, you couldn’t have waited for an hour?” 

“I am presenting myself,” Hypnos said. He spread his arms out wide to show off the said presentation. Oversized jacket, long sloppy skirt, and all. “This is the person they’ll be working with day in and day out. I wouldn’t want to lie to them, Thanatos.” 

Thanatos scoffed and adjusted his tie. He always dressed so professional and smart, picking out hand tailored suits that cut his shape like a knife. A beautiful shade of dark purple or green, shifting under the harsh light that did Club Olympus no favors. His patented designer shoes stuck to the floor and made soft velcro sounds when he shifted. 

Hypnos reached out, wanting to pet the dry clean only material of Thanatos’ suit. His twin flinched just out of reach. 

“Stop that,” he hissed. 

Hypnos delicately pulled his hand back, smiling forlornly at the purpled greened darkened fabric. 

The heavy metal door to the loft office high above clanged as it swung open and hit the guard rail. Emerging like a wraith from the shadows, Hypnos’ eldest brother made a sweeping motion in a large fluid movement, exiting the office and floating down the stairs. His legs moved, but Hypnos was sure his feet never made contact. 

Hidden behind a skeletal mask of glittering gold and gems, it held a magic that was consistent. It covered up the lower half of his face that had been marred from an on the job accident. A display of wealth and power and intimidation. No amount of real world would tarnish that gold and could never take away the shark’s grin Charon wore across his face. That was the difference between Club Olympus and his brothers. 

There was no farce.

They were exactly as they looked. 

Thanatos stood straight and at attention, watching Charon carefully. 

“Are we going in now?” he asked. 

Charon placed his hat on his head and looked under the brim at his little brother. He brushed past him, heading towards the door. 

“Thats it?” Thanatos asked, following his brother, Hypnos not far behind them. “What happens now?” 

Charon continued his silence and pulled a cigarette out of his handsome gold case. He put the paper roll between the separation of his mask, catching it between his lips on the other side, and began to light up. 

“You’re not allowed to smoke here,” a familiar deep voice said. 

Meg, as she was called, stood behind the entrance counter. Still statuesque and gorgeous, looking fresh from the pages of a magazine about women who could suplex Hypnos. Her hair was down as a favor to the rest of the world and Hypnos had to pause to marvel at her beauty. Before she had been able to do anything about it, Charon loomed behind his younger brother and cowed the woman into silence as he did so many others. 

All it took was one look from his brother’s cruel eyes to have Meg concentrated on her feet once more. 

Hypnos gave her a little wave on the way out. 

“Good to see you,” he sang. 

Sunlight was worse when it was diffused. Concentrated beams were easier to blame when the day was blue and cloudless, but under a thin cover that turned the whole sky yellow, there was no real excuse for Hypnos’ hangover wince. He scrambled to find his sunglasses in his pockets and resigned that he had lost them when they weren’t there to be found. 

“What are going to do next?” Thanatos kept asking, following Charon close at his heels. “Do we go back to mother?” 

“Oh come on Thanatos, it’ll be fun,” Hypnos said. “Just like when we started taking over Hades’– oh!” 

Hypnos put his hand on his head and found his sunglasses there. He smiled as he pulled them down and the world literally became rose tinted. 

“Relax,” he said with a smile. 

Thanatos stopped short in the parking lot and Hypnos walked right into him. He recoiled back from Thanatos’ brick wall, fumbling to stay up right. 

A harsh word visibly lived on Thanatos’ sneer, ready to fly free, when he stopped. His eyes left Hypnos in favor for something clearly more palatable, as his frown dropped and his eyes widened. 

“Zagreus?” he asked. 

Hypnos’ brow furrowed. That was an odd thing to say to him. 

“Thanatos?” a voice behind him asked. “And. . . is that Hypnos?” 

Hypnos turned around slowly and saw none other than the Hades kid himself exiting a car. Not the array of luxury boats that Charon drove or the smart sedan Thanatos owned that Hypnos was _not_ allowed to touch, but it was a beater. It looked like it had been used or ‘well loved.’ Like Zagreus hadn’t bought it with daddy’s money. 

“Zagreus,” Hypnos said like a song, saying each syllable distinctly. 

“You know each other?” Thanatos asked in a quiet mutter. 

“Yeah we met the other day,” Zagreus said. He trotted up to their side, hands in his pocket and wearing a happy eager smile that looked so good on him. 

Hypnos could feel his toes curl in his shoes. 

“How?” Thanatos asked. 

“Ran into each other I guess,” Zagreus said, aiming that smile at Hypnos. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“Working,” Hypnos said. 

Thanatos gave him a swift smack on the shoulder. 

“How about you?” Hypnos asked, disregarding it. 

“I’m working too,” Zagreus said with infectious energy. “I work here! What a coincidence!” 

“Yeah,” Thanatos said slowly. 

Even in his compromised state, Hypnos could see the lack of coincidence that the mob boss’ son suddenly got a job at his new pawn’s strip club. By the slow rise of Thanatos’ eyebrow, Hypnos could see his gears turning and wondering just how much Zagreus knew. 

“You strip?” Hypnos asked. 

“What? Oh no no no,” Zagreus said waving his hands. “Not that there's anything wrong with stripping. I just work in the security room.” 

“Aw thats a shame,” Hypnos said. 

It was fun to slip back in their little game. Where Hypnos would find just the right thing to say that would make Zagreus’ brain come to a screeching halt. Visibly stop him in place and have to parse every single word individually. Then the slow smile that followed was Hypnos’ own personal trophy. 

“Thank you Hypnos,” he said. 

Hypnos could feel Thanatos’ eyes bore holes in the back of his neck. He looked from his brother to his friend then back again in quiet contemplation. 

Behind them, Charon’s car roared to life, its aftermarket engine purring like a predator. Thanatos scoffed and snagged Hypnos by the arm. 

“We’re leaving,” he said. 

“Okie dokie,” Hypnos said, walking backwards and keeping rose tinted eyes on Zagreus. “See you later Zagreus!” 

“See you! We should hang out again,” Zagreus said, shouting to be heard across the parking lot. 

“We should,” Hypnos parroted. 

“I don’t have your number!” Zagreus shouted. 

“Thats funny, I don’t have yours!” Hypnos shouted back. 

“Can I have it!?” Zagreus called, sounding a little desperate. 

Thanatos stopped short and pulled Hypnos up to their shared full height to properly glare down at his brother. He clicked his tongue, rolled his eyes, and let go. 

“Be quick,” he growled. 

Hypnos scampered across the parking lot, not quite able to keep in a straight line, and far more focused on digging through the treasure trove in his pockets. He went over the already been chewed hard ball of gum, the condom that probably had a hole in it, and found the mini sharpie that had once been a keychain. He grabbed Zagreus by the hand long before he was close enough to do so and opened the sharpie with his teeth. The ink in the pen had been snuffed out long ago, but it was enough to scrawl out janky looking numbers from a too excited jittery hand. Hypnos breathed heavily around the cap between his teeth, making each mark strong and deliberate, and keeping his focus singularly on Zagreus’ life line. Nice and deep and long. 

He hoped he wrote the right number. 

Hypnos looked up slowly, eyes wide, rewarded once again with one of Zagreus’ sweet smiles. 

“Call me,” he said muffled around the cap in his mouth. 

“I will,” Zagreus promised. 

“Lets go!” Thanatos called from across the parking lot. 

Hypnos bounced backwards, making dancing side step gallops back to Charon’s car without looking where he was going. Without looking away from Zagreus. He snagged the cap from his mouth. 

“Call me!” he shouted. 

“I will!’ Zagreus promised a second time and waved his marked hand. 

Hypnos went to ask it again, hoping the magical power of three promises would bind Zagreus to him, but Thanatos was faster. He scruffed Hypnos and all but cop shoved him into the back of the luxury car. Hypnos scrambled across the back seat to press his nose to the window, so that he could wave to Zagreus as they drove away. Zagreus kept waving with his defiled hand before letting it fall. 

He stared at the marks, smiled at them, as if they had been something fragile and priceless. As if they had been a gift. 

Hypnos turned his head against the glass to stare for as long as he possibly could and even when Zagreus was out of sight. 

“What was that about?” Thanatos asked. 

Hypnos didn’t know.


	2. Hook Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zagreus was drunk. He had that dopey unstoppable smile he got when he was drunk and tilted his head to the side to align with the spinning of the world. He had been talking, going on and on about some or another that Hypnos would always be fascinated with. Zagreus was a happy drunk, a talkative drunk. 
> 
> A touchy drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know theres other projects I should be working on but this story has me by the D

Hypnos was asleep again. At least he was pretty sure he was asleep again. Noise and color swirled into a mass until they were indecipherable from one another. A cacophony that blinded him and made his ears bleed. He could feel his smile run ragged and wide, the rate of his heart pounding heavy enough to burst from his chest like a bloodthirsty monster. No narrative to clutch, no visions to hold on to, a mass of nothing and everything that slipped through Hypnos’ fingers like so much sand. 

“Hey, hey, wake up,” laughter rang in Hypnos’ ears. He was rattled and jolted and shook like a rag doll. 

Eyes that he thought were already opened blinked. A world far darker than the one that danced behind closed lids greeted Hypnos. 

“I’m up,” he slurred. “I’m up I’m up.” 

“You are not up,” the laugh kept going against his ear. “Hey, don’t fall asleep again or they’ll kick us out.” 

The bowling ball in Hypnos’ balloon head bobbed back and forth as he tried to make it work to his advantage. He rolled it, his chin brushing against his collar bone, before managing to flop his noggin against the hard warmth that wrapped around him. An arm, bare and just the right amount of sweaty, the perfect height to be Hypnos’ pillow. Slothful eyes slunk slimy over the blur of his surroundings until they could look up into the mismatched heterochromatic gaze. 

A crooked smile pulled at one half of Hypnos’ face like a stroke victim. 

“Zagreus,” he sighed. 

“There you are,” Zagreus said. 

The arm around Hypnos’ head curled, boxing him in protective and secure, and calloused fingers brushed strands of sticky hair from his eyes. 

Zagreus was drunk. He had that dopey unstoppable smile he got when he was drunk and tilted his head to the side to align with the spinning of the world. He had been talking, going on and on about some or another that Hypnos would always be fascinated with. Zagreus was a happy drunk, a talkative drunk. 

A touchy drunk. 

They had been on . . . outings. Dates maybe, Hypnos would hope in the quiet of his room when he was alone. Meet ups at the coffee shop, walks in the park, eating questionable hot dogs and sitting on rocks that had been artfully graffitied. Places where they could talk, out in the open. Where their arms could brush against one another and send pleasant little jolts that electrified Hypnos’ heart. 

Hypnos learned a lot of things about Zagreus. He learned about his utter disdain for his father and the way he skirted around the subject of his mother. He had a dog that he adored with all the world and was one of those people that collected swords. He had a crotchety old coach for a boxing instructor who strangely insisted that Zagreus hit him harder. Hypnos was pretty sure Zagreus had a masochistic streak to him, even though Zagreus only laughed nervously when Hypnos inquired about it point blank. 

Hypnos learned that Zagreus was extremely tactile. 

It wasn’t just the little brushes and the nudging of shoes. Zagreus had a tendency to ruffle Hypnos’ hair, throw an arm over his shoulder, pull Hypnos close to his side. When he wanted Hypnos to go one way or another, he would take Hypnos by the hand or the wrist or the arm and bodily drag him wherever it was Zagreus wanted him to be. He had picked up the curious habit of hugging Hypnos hello and hugging him goodbye. At one time, he insisted that Hypnos weighed about as much as a biscuit and lifted him off the ground just to prove it, even though Hypnos hadn’t argued against the fact. 

Hypnos was addicted to his touch.

Zagreus was like a puppy taken human form. An all too excitable man child with nothing but the biggest of smiles for Hypnos whenever they met. He was constantly bursting at the seams with new information and news to share, a compliment on whatever monstrosity Hypnos had put on that morning, walking circles with too much energy that Hypnos couldn’t keep up with. He beamed whenever the slightest bit of praise came from Hypnos and donned a curious frown whenever Hypnos let slip a backhanded compliment. 

He was cute. He was adorable. He was everything Hypnos wanted to stop thinking about before he grew too attached. 

Hypnos wasn't sure why he was still around. 

Zagreus brushed back more of Hypnos’ hair and he half hallucinated the strings that connected Zagreus’ fingers to Hypnos’ head. Like static dancing over his skin. 

Hypnos closed his eyes. 

“Am I really that boring?” Zagreus laughed and laughed. Tack giggly drunk on top of everything else. 

“No,” Hypnos said. “Did you know that you bounce when you talk?” 

“I do?” Zagreus asked. 

“Like that,” Hypnos said, lamely poking at his chest. “Up and down and up and down.” 

Zagreus held his breath and attempted to hold still. His hand rested atop Hypnos’ head, carding his touch through glitter laden hair. It would stick to his fingers for days. Hypnos kept prodding Zagreus’ chest, less to make a point and more to see how deep his finger could go. 

“What was I talking about?” Zagreus asked, letting out a long breath. 

“I dunno,” Hypnos said. “Dissecting worms or something?” 

“No I’m pretty sure thats not it,” Zagreus said. 

Hypnos sat up and blinked blearily until the club came back into focus. Pink and hazy, smelling of stale and dry. A picking sensation like removing a scab that tickled up his nose. It was nearing full capacity boarding on fire hazard and Hypnos briefly wondered how many of the floating bodies were real. He wanted to crawl down on all fours and poke them one by one to see if they evaporated into a cloud of dust. 

He was supposed to be working. He had a pocket full of magic and was supposed to be sprinkling it on everyone who asked. Hypnos had made himself known as a fixture by that point as he had before. According to some he elevated the joint, to others he was an eyesore. In the end, Hypnos had established himself as the resident coke dealer. 

That evening he didn’t make it into the office. 

Zagreus came dashing out of his little security box high above the crowd, eager to see a friendly face. He had probably caught Hypnos wandering in on his security screens. He apparently had just gotten off his shift and wouldn’t Hypnos care to join him for a drink? Stay a little while? Talk for a little bit? 

Hypnos, already flying high as a kite, had no way of turning that down. 

Hypnos looked from the twirling dancers spinning like ballerinas in a jewelry box to the crowd that blurred into a single gelatinous mass, a swimming pool of bodies. He looked down at the table and wondered when Zagreus' single beer had turned into five. He half wished for a clock on the wall, but told himself it would do no good. 

His high would come down soon, if not already. Hypnos itched for another bump, but instead he looked at Zagreus. 

He didn’t want to blow in front of him. 

“Hey,” Zagreus said, laughter and amusement fading into something warmer. Softer. Gentler. A smile that wrapped around Hypnos like a comforter. 

Hypnos looked down at his chest again, broad and defined despite the looseness of Zagreus’ shirt. He fought the urge to faceplant in the crevice between and go back to sleep.

“You should. . . you should go home,” Zagreus said. 

It didn’t sound like goodbye. Goodbye was a little sad and withdrawn. Every time Zagreus said goodbye, there was an ‘I’m sorry’ written across his face. There was a hollow emptiness in Hypnos’ chest as he walked away, like something that had been filled there had come to an end. 

This was not goodbye. It was hopeful. Something interested and curious. 

“What time is it?” Hypnos asked. 

Zagreus picked up Hypnos’ wrist and looked at his watch. 

“Tomorrow,” he said. 

“Hmm.” Hypnos looked to the bathroom then back to Zagreus. A carousel spin whirled across his brain like a tiara. “If you drive you’re gonna wake up in the hospital.” 

“Then I’ll take a cab,” Zagreus said. “You can share one with me.” 

He was smiling. He was grinning and giggling and touching the back of Hypnos’ neck. He was playing with the curly hairs that tapered there, each twirl of his finger ghosting across Hypnos’ skin. 

There was a plea in his eyes, a question that was loud in clear. _’Share a cab’_ flashing like an Open For Business sign. 

Hypnos glanced to the bathroom once more. 

Zagreus was swimming in alcohol, filled so high that foam floated in his eyes. His judgement was out the window and that left Hypnos with all the sound decision making. Hypnos should have protected him, told him how many bad ideas Zagreus was making in that moment, given him multiple outs before he picked the one person he shouldn’t choose. 

The only decision Hypnos could make right then and there was how a good and proper high made _every_ experience better. 

His high was fading. 

Zagreus was two seconds from a puppy dog whine. How was Hypnos supposed to say no to that. 

“Okie dokie,” Hypnos said and thrilled in the way Zagreus grinned. He swayed in place and closed one eye, trying to make the world stop spinning around him. 

Zagreus was up on his feet first, leaving behind a cash tip with the fallen soldiers of empty bottles on the table. He held out both hands eagerly for Hypnos to follow him. Hypnos was dragged to his feet, that same limp ragdoll feel to his body, and Zagreus led him across the floor. One arm around Hypnos’ waist, Zagreus led the way in a drunken serpentine. On noodle based legs, every time Zagreus stumbled, the threat of Hypnos falling became a very real possibility. Every time it felt like Hypnos’ legs might give out, Zagreus clutched him close to his side. Hypnos could have been dragged along like a purse and he would have been equally as content. 

Hypnos could have easily fallen asleep in the parking lot, nestled next to Zagreus, consumed in the scent of his failing deodorant and beer on his breath. Hypnos closed his eyes again, swimming in the empty space where nothing existed except the chill of night. 

His jacket was pulled up onto his shoulder again. Or was that an arm. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Zagreus whispered. 

“Hmm. . .” Hypnos turned his face into Zagreus’ neck. 

“Hey.” Zagreus jerked his shoulder and it did nothing to rouse Hypnos. “Don’t. Fall. Asleep.” 

“Why don’t you?” Hypnos muttered. “Get on my level.” 

“What? Just lie down in the parking lot?” Zagreus laughed. Why was his laugh so much nicer outside? Must be the lack of deafening bass. 

Hypnos stood up a little straighter to smile up at Zagreus. 

“Yeah, why not,” he said. 

“Our ride is here,” Zagreus said with a jerk of his head. 

“Darn.” 

Zagreus held the door open and Hypnos had a strange feeling of deja vu, a dream from long ago when Zagreus had done this very thing before. 

That time, Zagreus climbed in after him. 

Hypnos assumed his post club position of flopped against the door and face pressed against the window. The world rumbled by in silence as street lights peered in with intermittent flashes. The cool of the glass was a welcome relief against Hypnos’ temple. There was a constant sound, a stream that sounded like singing. His eyes darted as he tried to focus on details as they flashed by. A sign on a building, a company that sounded like a drug that made someone happy. A girl on her phone, far too young to be out late at night, but who was he to judge. A bicycle with flashing lights in its wheels. It took flight. 

Maybe he was still high. 

There was a soft nudge against Hypnos’ pinky, limp and laid out on the back seat of the cab. He looked down at his hand to see the other lightly tapping it. Fingernails that had been bitten to different lengths, half moons of dirt beneath them. There was a papercut on the back of a knuckle. The offending hand slid back across the bench to its owner. 

Zagreus was hunched over and smiling softly. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you,” Hypnos said. “Did you say something?” 

Zagreus opened his mouth to speak again, closed it, and sighed. He unbuckled his seat belt, scooched across the back seat bench, and reached around Hypnos, drowning him in that all too human scent once again. He pulled the belt across Hypnos’ chest with a soft zip and an even quieter click. 

“There,” Zagreus said, pleased with himself. 

“You smell nice,” Hypnos said. 

Zagreus reacted _so well_ to praise. 

In that moment, he was all Hypnos could see, dominating his vision so thoroughly. For a second, he was so sure that Zagreus might lean forward and mash their faces together, fusing to one faceless animal with two bodies dangling off the center. But it was only the way he swayed from the drunk and the way the cab ran over potholes. 

Zagreus scooted to move back to his seat, but Hypnos grabbed his shirt. He wasn’t going to hold the stout man in place with just a forefinger and a thumb, but it was enough to stop Zagreus. Zagreus just smiled, buckled into the uncomfortable middle seat, and leaned into Hypnos. He rested his head on Hypnos’ shoulder, two seconds from succumbing to drink. His hair tickled Hypnos’ nose and a constipated sneeze formed there. Hypnos resumed his position once again. 

“You smell nice,” he said again. 

Zagreus nuzzled in deeper. 

The car rocked. The world whizzed by. It tripped from the seedy center where Club Olympus sat between two highway exits, through a downtown business district, over a bridge into a less reputable neighborhood that was overpriced and slowly going through the painful process of gentrification. 

“You live so far away,” Zagreus muttered. 

“Kind of, its not so bad,” Hypnos said. “I get to stare out the window.” 

“You drive this far every day?” 

Hypnos wanted to shrug, but he didn’t want to disturb Zagreus. He flopped his hands instead. 

“Charon picks me up sometimes,” Hypnos said. “And he lets me borrow one of his cars. He’s a good brother.” 

“He’s a good brother,” Zagreus agreed. 

Finally, in a sleepy corner of the world with no street lamps and too many trees to block the moonlight, the cab stopped. A darkened path cut through untrimmed shrubbery to an apartment building that was built decades ago and wore its faded paint and tacky aesthetic like a movie starlet desperately clinging to what she once was. Hypnos opened the door, the click of it cutting through the night with a too loud _ka-thunk_ and stepped out from under Zagreus, leaving him to lean on nothing. 

Hypnos stared up at his home of the last few years, the place he crawled into since he left the Chthonic manor. Since Nyx had kicked him out with the guise of sink or swim, that he must learn his place on his own. 

Every time he saw those faded orange stairs, he heard her voice and tried not to let the thought that she wanted him gone sink into his mind. It was a practiced skill.

Step by tired stumbling step, he turned to see those mismatched kaleidoscope eyes staring up at him, big and wide and hopeful. 

Zagreus, full of so many bad decisions, thinking he was making a good one. Biting up at the carrot that dragged him along. Hypnos should say good night, should close the door, should give Zagreus a stone wall to come crashing up against for his own good. He should have left them both to that hollow feeling of a goodbye.

What did people say in moments like those? Something about coffee? Something seductive or suggestive? Something coy and clever? 

“Well?” Hypnos asked. “Are you coming?” 

Zagreus eagerly unbuckled his seatbelt and didn’t wait for it to retract into his hiding place before he stumbled out of the cab. 

Hypnos only lived on the second floor but all it took was one forgotten tumble down the stairs and a gash in his forehead to ever let him trust those slatted demons ever again. The elevator wasn’t much better but it had yet to commit bodily harm. It shuddered and jolted as it leapt into action. 

“You have a nice place here,” Zagreus commented. 

“Yup! I sure do love it,” Hypnos said. “Its got charm.” 

“You got charm,” Zagreus slurred. 

Hypnos looked down to his feet. He could feel his small smile straining at the corners of his lips, the muscles in his face attempting to fight it, and the anticipation fluttering in his chest. 

They wobbled down the enclosed hallway together, sealed off from the rest of the world and devoid of human life. Zagreus stared at the swirling patterns on the well trod carpeting. 

“I bet you live in a real nice place,” Hypnos said, fishing out his keys. 

“Oh yeah I think you’d like it,” Zagreus said. “I have an XBox. You should come around sometime to play.”

“I bet I could beat you,” Hypnos said. “I’m real good at Mario Kart.” 

“Thats not. . .,” Zagreus said. 

Hypnos hummed merrily and struggled to put his keys in the lock, already scratched up from the many times he’d done so before. 

“Its got an island in the kitchen and a real nice couch and a TV,” Zagreus kept going. “But no guest bed.” 

Hypnos could feel the breath on the back of his neck and a hand sliding over his hip. 

“But I don’t think that would be a problem,” Zagreus said, quiet and rumbling. 

Hypnos shivered from the contact. Despite all of Zagreus’ little touches, how he cuddled up to Hypnos, how he pulled Hypnos close, Hypnos was still unused to it. The way his skin jumped and jolted, years without stimulation made his whole body leap into every little caress. 

He turned, crowded by Zagreus. He was almost a head shorter than Hypnos, but still so much bigger. Eyes heavy with drink and sleep and promises that Hypnos could almost taste. 

Hypnos’ back hit the door. Zagreus fumbled until he found Hypnos’ hand, grabbing him by the wrist and lifted it, pinning it above Hypnos’ head. Fingers slid up his palm and slotted between his own. He could taste the stale beer on his teeth and in his eyes. 

“You don’t want this,” Hypnos whispered. 

One last defense to protect Zagreus. 

“I really do,” Zagreus said. 

It wasn’t the drink, it wasn’t the sway, the world didn’t tilt, but Zagreus came crashing down anyways. They did not fuse, they did not merge, but Zagreus tried anyways. His mouth, hungry and wet and open, pressed against Hypnos who met in kind. Sloppy and slotting into one another in a stumbling, fumbling hungry mess. 

Zagreus’ lips dragged over Hypnos’, pulling them wetly with each pass. Hypnos tried to keep up with his enthusiasm, tried to match it. A moment passed between them when they simply paused and breathed one another’s air until Hypnos couldn’t tell which was his. That close, Zagreus’ lust laden eyes blurred together before he leaned in greedily for more. 

His hand gripped Hypnos’ hip, the bare skin where his shirt had ridden up, warming it with his body heat. He pinned Hypnos to the door, holding him there as he dragged his touch across Hypnos’ stomach, as his hips pressed against Hpynos,’ as he ground into him. His body pressed like waves and encouraged what did not need encouragement. 

Hypnos reached up, his hand clawed and shaking, wanting to return in favor everything that Zagreus had already given him. Finally, he managed to fist some of Zagreus’ hair, pulling him closer and closer. The hand Zagreus held against the door squeezed back painfully with desperation. He groaned as his tongue curled into Zagreus’ mouth, tasting behind his teeth. 

The world dropped away, black and empty, with nothing but the two of them lip locked and tongue tied. Soft whimpers and moans that echoed into the void. 

Zagreus’ leg pushed between Hypnos’ own and if Hypnos let him, he’d probably drag them down right then and there. 

Hypnos slapped at the door three times until he found the handle. He clicked the keys in the lock and the door opened. 

Hypnos and Zagreus stumbled backwards into his apartment, falling apart and descending into excited giggles. 

The keys stayed in the door all night. 

____

Coffee sputtered as the stream trickled into the pot. It steamed in the cold of the apartment, stinking it up with that fresh aroma that always tasted better than the mud actually did. It coiled black and hot as it filled up the carafe, swirling and bubbling, catching the dim light from the windows. 

Hypnos’ bare feet were cold on the linoleum floor, the draft in the window doing no favors for him. His bare legs were a little bit better as he shuffled his knees back and forth. The too large shirt he wore draped limply off his shoulders and stopped somewhere past his hips. It wasn’t his. It hadn’t been in his apartment until the night before. 

He liked how it smelled. 

He tapped his fingers on the counter, shuffling back and forth, humming lightly under his breath. The sun was just peering over the trees that blocked his view, grey and turning pink. He rarely was up that early, but he wanted to make coffee. 

He wanted to do something special. He wanted to do something nice. 

Hypnos looked to the little junk drawer just off the side. He reached out to it, his fingers hovering over the handle. The coffee maker sputtered as it ended its deed and Hypnos only tapped the drawer instead. Later. 

He filled up two mugs, a flowery one that read World’s Best Grandma and another faded orange and yellow mug with little mushrooms on it. He scooped three spoonfuls of sugar into his own. He hesitated with the second but remembered repeated caramel pumps in ordered coffees and scooped in two. He grabbed the mugs by the bodies and regretted it as he power walked to the bedroom. 

Zagreus was still asleep. Flopped over with one hand draped over his eyes, curled up around the space where Hypnos had been. His hair was usually a mess, but it was a styled mess. In sleep it lost all sense of control and poked up at odd angles. His mouth hung open, pink and dry, and he snored soft little clicks in the back of his throat. One leg was draped up, his foot poking out from under the blanket. 

For a second, Hypnos forgot about the heat burning his hands. 

He shuffled to the bedside and sat down, sitting back on his heels. He rested the mugs on his bare thighs, turning them around to hold them properly. Or at least better. 

It wasn’t long before the laser beam of sunlight that was perfectly positioned to shoot down directly into Zagreus’ eyes shone in through the curtains. Hypnos had been subject to its particular torment numerous times. Zagreus snorted, sneered, his face scrunching up in the center. He turned to press it into the pillow, a fruitless attempt to hide from the onslaught, before finally opening one bloodshot eye to look at Hypnos. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Hypnos said. 

That just made Zagreus smile, half hidden by the pillow. 

Hypnos held up the grandma mug as a peace offering. Zagreus accepted it, smile widening and eyes crinkling against the hangover. He propped himself up on one arm and took a sip, only then did Hypnos think to sip with him. It was too much too fast and burned down his throat. 

“Sweet,” Zagreus said, peering into the mug, but it didn’t sound like a complaint. 

Hypnos took another long slurp. Another stream of heat went down his throat. He didn’t blink. 

Zagreus settled the mug against the sheets and leaned into his palm. His face squished and Hypnos could see the headache in his expression, but he smiled softly. Hypnos’ eyes scanned down the bare expanse of his chest where the blanket had fallen. 

“So,” Zagreus said, smile widening. “Last night.” 

“Yup,” Hypnos said. “Last night.” 

Zagreus twisted the mug back and forth, keeping droopy eyes on Hypnos. 

“Was it good for you?” he asked. 

“Oh yeah!” Hypnos said, leaning forward. “It was really nice, a really good time. A real good time. I mean, what I mean to say is. I liked it.” 

“Good,” Zagreus laughed. 

Hypnos’ nails tinked against the side of the brightly colored mushrooms. 

“And what did you think?” he asked. 

Zagreus smiled. He had a nice smile. His smile felt like a hug. 

“Yeah. Yeah I liked it,” he laughed, as if it were obvious. 

“What was your favorite part?” Hypnos asked. 

“All of it,” Zagreus said. He reached out, his fingers sliding across Hypnos’ cheek, leaning over the mug. “Especially this part.” 

Gone was the rush and urgency from the night before and all that was left behind was a soft tenderness, a fuzzy gentle touch like rubbing a woolen parka over his lips. Just a hold in place, just a connection that stopped time. 

Zagreus pulled back slowly, hand still on Hypnos’ face and stroked his cheek bone. 

Hypnos stared open mouthed and stunned. 

“Neat,” he said. 

Zagreus huffed out a laugh, continuously amused with everything around him. He plucked the mushroom mug from Hypnos’ hands and placed it and the grandma on the nightstand. In a rush, he whirled, leaned out of the bed, grabbed Hypnos by the waist, and hauled him up and over Zagreus’ body. Hypnos made a noise suspiciously like a squeak toy. The little double bed was shoved against the wall and once again Zagreus crowded him against it. His arms strong around Hypnos’ flank, pressing kisses down Hypnos’ neck. Hypnos giggled from it all, his legs squirming between Zagreus’, his arms pinned between them. 

“Aaah that tickles!” Hypnos complained. 

“Need me to stop?” Zagreus asked between kisses. 

Hypnos craned his neck, giving Zagreus more access, and stretched the sleep from his legs. 

“No,” he hummed. 

Zagreus planted one, two, three more slow kisses ranging from Hypnos’ collar bone to the bruise he had left the night before to just behind his ear, before he settled back into the bed. As he had the night before, he pushed aside hair that had fallen in Hypnos’ face. 

The quiet of the room shifted as Hypnos’ heater turned on in an effort to battle the elements. Soon, the perpetual construction a few streets over would start up again. The death beam aimed at the pillow behind Zagreus and its ray of light highlighted the dust motes that had been disturbed. It kissed the edges of Zagreus’ dark hair, giving him halo.

Zagreus looked around the room, sitting up slightly to take it in. He had been single minded and in a rush the night before, passing out from orgasm and drink, to really catalogue Hypnos’ state of living. 

Sweeping over the wooden frame of Hypnos’ double to the laundry chair, a chair in the corner filled with clean laundry that never made it to the drawers, then the actual dirty laundry basket beside it. The beaded curtain over the pull down shade in an effort to spice up the place. The wall filled with photos of his family, estranged sisters and Nyx with her children. The art he had found in a dumpster hung without a frame. Floating bookshelves that took up the expanse of the wall above Hypnos’ bed, the one that Zagreus had intimately been introduced to with his head. An array of books still lay at their feet from where they fell. 

Zagreus reached up onto the bookshelves and pulled out a piece of paper that stuck out. 

It was a photo. Back when Hypnos was young. The age of child between toddler and teenager. They had gone out some place past the city, into the woods, and stopped in a field. The soft curve of green mountains loomed in the distance. A checkered blanket spread out over the ground. Charon’s face was still intact, a rare soft smile had made an appearance as he leaned over his brothers. Thanatos had his arms wrapped tight around Hypnos’ neck, pulling him close until their faces pressed together. Hypnos grinned into the camera, eyes and smile wide. 

“Thats me and my brothers,” Hypnos said, nuzzling in close to Zagreus. “They’re the greatest. The best brothers a guy could ask for.” 

Zagreus looked down at Hypnos and stroked his hair again. 

“You were so small,” he said and put the picture back where he found it. 

Hypnos managed to pry his hands free and slunk them around to Zagreus’ back. He buried his face under Zagreus’ chin, rubbing his nose in the crook of Zagreus’ collarbone. 

“What are you talking about? I’m still small,” Hypnos said. 

Zagreus sighed and rested his chin on top of Hypnos’ head. He tangled their legs together, their arms wrapped around each other, forming a human pretzel twisted around the center. 

Right on time, the rev of an excavation digger rumbled in the distance and puttered into a natural background hum. Zagreus reached up to the side table and pulled down Hypnos’ watch. 

“I gotta go,” he said. 

“I have a better idea,” Hypnos said. “Why don’t you stay here instead? We can spend all day in bed and cuddle and drink more coffee. . .” 

Hypnos looked up at Zagreus with wide pleading eyes and Zagreus just brushed his cheek. 

“I can give you ibuprofen and cereal,” Hypnos kept going. “Together if you like. Just mash it up and sprinkle it on Cheerios like sugar.” 

“As appetizing as that sounds,” Zagreus said and planted a firm kiss on Hypnos’ forehead. “I have a meeting with my father. I can’t skip out on this one.” He talked through more kisses as he trailed across Hypnos’ face. “I gotta pry some information from him.” 

“Aww,” Hypnos whined, but let Zagreus slip through his fingers. Hypnos flopped his head against the pillow, his vision filled with its down fluff, and half obscuring the naked man that wandered around his bedroom. He could see enough to ogle a little. Just a little. 

Zagreus found his pants thrown on the floor with his underwear nestled inside like a matryoshka doll. He hopped into his underwear one leg at a time and Hypnos folded his arms under the pillow, watching the way certain parts bounced. Zagreus got his pants on and looked down at Hypnos as he zipped up his fly. He smirked, knowing exactly what Hypnos was doing, and scanned where his shirt had ridden up on Hypnos’ back. 

“Oh I suppose I should give this back, huh?” Hypnos said sitting up. He plucked at the collar of the shirt.

“No,” Zagreus said, pulling his hoodie on over his shoulders. “You keep it for now. Besides.” He zipped up over his bare chest. “You look cute in it.” 

Hypnos’ smile up at Zagreus shook, an overwhelming tingle ran up his spine. He hid his face into the pillow with a whine and kicked his legs against the bed. The bed dipped and the hand that stroked through his hair was growing more and more familiar. Hypnos wondered if he’d ever get used to it. Zagreus kissed his crown and Hypnos kicked his legs two more times before deflating flat into the mattress. 

“Walk me to the door?” Zagreus asked.

And how was Hypnos supposed to say no. 

So it passed that Hypnos stood in his doorway, dressed only in Zagreus’ shirt that barely covered his dignity, staring down the man he had a drunken hook up with. It counted if at least one of them was drunk. Zagreus clapped his hands at his sides. 

“We should do this again sometime,” he said. 

“You think so?” Hypnos asked. 

“Yeah,” Zagreus laughed. He cupped Hypnos’ cheeks in both his hands and leaned in close. “Yeah, we really should.” 

Sober Zagreus was a lot more accurate than drunk Zagreus. A lot slower without the heat of passion. He could take his time knowing that Hypnos was there, that he was going nowhere. 

Hypnos reached up and gripped Zagreus by the loose ends of his jacket. He pulled Zagreus closer, forcing him to stumble a few steps. A step backward and Hypnos was dragging Zagreus back over the threshold. 

Zagreus laughed and pulled away. 

“Nice try,” he said. 

Hypnos whined, mouth still available for kissing and eyes closed. Zagreus stepped back leaving Hypnos to grope for air. 

“I’ll call you,” Zagreus said. 

Hypnos opened his eyes. 

“Promise?” he asked. 

“Promise,” Zagreus said and he leaned in to plant a quick peck, too quick for Hypnos to do anything about it. 

It was not goodbye, but it felt like goodbye.

Hypnos could have followed him, clung to his arm, forced Zagreus to drag him like an anchor, but his chilly legs kept him in his doorway. He watched Zagreus trot with a pep in his step to the stairs and took them down with an almost tap dancer like grace. More than once, Zagreus looked back to see if Hypnos was still watching. When he was out of sight and the hallway was quiet, Hypnos remained leaned against his door frame, rubbing the back of his arm and growing accustomed to the hollow emptiness that grew in his limbs. Bones became vacant and weak as he stepped back inside. 

Hypnos thunked his back against the door, his head hitting the wood, and slowly slid down to the floor. He pulled the collar of the shirt up over his nose and inhaled deeply. The apartment still smelled of coffee but Zagreus’ linger overpowered it. He closed his eyes and indulged in it. 

When they opened again, they beelined to the junk drawer. 

Hypnos crawled across his kitchen on his hands and knees, opened the drawer, and fished around without looking for his little altoid box. He dragged his body to his plastic kitchen table and gently tapped out a line. Using the rolled up paper from the night before, he breathed in deep. 

Hypnos leaned back in his chair and smiled. 

It was a good morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent this chapter yelling "STOP BEING CUTE" at them 
> 
> I know I promised (warned about) angst and it'll start up next chapter. 
> 
> We've set up the high, now comes the fall. 
> 
> Twitter: [OhNo_Hello](https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello)  
> Tumblr: [ScrumpyLikesThings](https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> This came out way more adorable than I was initially intending 
> 
> Give it a couple of chapters. The pain will come. 
> 
> Also as always if I have gotten any details wrong, feel free to reach out to me on social media and I'll make the changes. 
> 
> Twitter: [OhNo_Hello](https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello)  
> Tumblr: [ScrumpyLikesThings](https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/)


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